Time passed, and I was still wondering if I could get everyone I liked to like each other someday.

Well, okay. I didn't think I could ever get Brandon and Felicia to be more than coldly civil with each other, realistically. I wasn't too sure about Brandon and Dan either; Dan seemed to dislike Brandon almost as viciously as Felicia did, although I still felt like they both just didn't understand him like I did. But maybe I could do something about Sunday's hatred of Felicia.

The question was just, what should I do?

"Something on your mind?" Brandon asked as we sat together by the river on one of our secret dates. He was fiddling with a box of cigarettes and a lighter, even though I was pretty sure he was years too young to smoke.

"What? Oh, it's—it's nothing special," I said with an embarrassed smile, forcing myself to stop spacing out already. "I was just—wondering. About a bunch of things."

Holding a cigarette loosely between his fingers, he turned to fully face me. "Care to share?" he asked.

"What? Oh, don't worry, it's really nothing—are you sure you should be smoking?"

Brandon lowered his cigarette. "What's the problem?"

"I—well, you're a student athlete." I gestured loosely to his athletic form. "It's bad for your lungs, so…doesn't it affect your performance or anything?"

He shrugged, but his eyes narrowed. "I don't smoke that often," he said, his voice sharper than before. "What, are you planning to tell me what to do?"

I flinched. Something about his gaze felt too sharp, threatening, reminding me of the way he had looked at Jake for the simple crime of talking to me. This wasn't right, a voice whispered inside my head. He wasn't supposed to look at me that way.

"Of course not!" I said hastily. "It's your decision! I was just wondering."

The angry gleam in Brandon's eyes went out. Satisfied, he lit his cigarette and took a long drag.

"Felicia used to do it, you know," he said as he exhaled the smoke, watching it slowly spiral through the air and disappear into tiny wisps over the river. "Tell me to stop smoking."

He spat out the words like some disgusting insect sitting on his tongue, but I couldn't help cracking a smile. "She does like looking out for people's health," I said before I could stop myself. "She's always trying to make sure I eat enough."

"Does he?" Brandon barked a laugh. "Hypocrite. Doesn't want people to starve themselves the way she did to get her plastic Barbie doll body, huh?"

A memory flickered back through my mind, Sunday's voice, a similar comment. She cared so much about looking like a supermodel she totally starved herself.

"So, she…" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "She didn't always look like this?"

"Nah." Brandon took another drag from his cigarette. "She used to look like a person, once. Then her pretty face started getting to her head and she sold her personality for a skinny body and designer clothes."

I didn't say anything. I just tried to picture Felicia looking like anything but a supermodel and failed.

"Hey," Brandon said after a while.

I looked up. "Hm?"

"Promise me something." He exhaled the smoke and watched it curl. "Don't ever sell out, Pearl. Don't try to become like them."

I nodded stiffly, partly because I didn't know what to say, partly because it was an easy promise to make. It wasn't like I had the confidence to wear the kind of clothes or makeup Felicia or the other popular girls wore, after all. The mere thought made me squirm under the weight of people's imaginary stares.

"Promise," I said, and Brandon smirked, looking satisfied.

"Good," he said, then held out his cigarette. "Want a drag?"

I tensed. "What?"

"You've never tried it, right?" Brandon leaned closer, his smirk deepending. "Wanna give it a try?"

On instinct I backed away. "I don't think I should be doing that," I said, watching the smoke curl, curl, curl around in the air. "Isn't—isn't it dangerous?"

Brandon's smirk faded, his expression growing serious. "Why would I tell you to do something dangerous?" he asked, his green eyes gazing deep into my soul. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

That was right, I reminded myself. Brandon liked me. He wouldn't harm me. If this were dangerous, he wouldn't have offered.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. "Okay."

Smirking again, Brandon held the cigarette to my mouth, his rough knuckles brushing lightly against my lips. I swallowed hard and inhaled.

The next thing I remembered was coughing my lungs out, my eyes burning and watering, my airways feeling like I had breathed in a burning house's worth of smoke. It didn't feel pleasant or relaxing or anywhere as cool as Brandon made it look. It felt like I had come into the kitchen to something burning on the stove and the entire room filled with a thick cloud of smoke.

"Too much?" Brandon asked, rubbing my back until I could finally breathe again. "Should've guessed. It's how most people feel when they try it for the first time."

Gulping in the clean air, I wiped a hand across my watering eyes. "Sorry," I said with a sheepish smile. "But I just…I don't think it's for me."

Brandon looked displeased, but he didn't argue. I had a feeling that he'd been hoping I would take to this part of his lifestyle a little better, but it seemed like my body wasn't made for it, after all. And he probably understood that I couldn't help it, but his disappointed silence still made me shift and squirm with guilt.

"Sorry," I said again.

He waved it off. "Forget it," he said. "There are enough other ways you're cool."

Did he just imply I was uncool just now? the more insecure part of me wondered, but the rest of my mind could only focus on the fact that he had just called me cool. I smiled. "I can't believe someone like you thinks I'm cool," I admitted.

He gave me a lopsided smile back. "There's more to you than meets the eye, Pearl Evans," he said, his voice low and a little raspy, but strangely gentle. "If other people can't see that, that's their fault."

And part of me still had trouble believing his words, part of me still wondered if it was a joke or a lie—but all the same, just for a moment, I couldn't help feeling like the most important thing in his world.

~ ~ ~

I detailed the whole story to Sunday the next day, and as expected, she was delighted. "Sounds like he really likes you!" she exclaimed, hugging me from the side. "Good for you, good for you! You deserve it, girl!"

Dan, thankfully, wasn't there to have any contrasting opinions. We were on our way to lunch, and he had disappeared a couple minutes ago to attend the volleyball team's strategy meeting.

"It's so nice to have someone who supports us," I told her and meant it from the bottom of my heart. "Especially Brandon. I don't think a lot of people like him."

"Oh, definitely not," Sunday agreed. "Their loss, to be honest. I think he's a pretty cool guy."

I smiled. "Why don't you ever hang out with him? I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"Me? Nah, Dan would kick my ass if I did that." I stared, and Sunday laughed out loud. "Oh my God, Pearly, I'm just kidding! I'm just pretty sure he finds me annoying."

My eyes went round. "Why would he find you annoying?"

"Too loud, too much attitude." Sunday gestured along her whole body, from her hair and makeup to her outfit, and grinned. "I think he prefers more low-key gals like you."

"That's still no excuse to find you annoying. You're not annoying," I insisted, and Sunday laughed and messed up my hair. Squeaking, I yanked her hand away and did my best to fix the mess on my head without a mirror.

"You know," she said, "you see the good in people so easily. Someday it's gonna be your downfall."

I wanted to ask what she meant by that, but Sunday had already pulled away, grinning and waving before disappearing into the direction of her table that she normally shared with Dan.

She'd be all alone there today, I mused, wondering if I should cancel on Felicia and the others to sit with her, at least until Dan returned. But she hadn't said anything about minding lunch alone, and I hated canceling plans at the last minute, so I sighed and went to take my usual seat with the cheerleaders.

From several feet away Felicia caught sight of me, smiled and waved, and I smiled and waved back. Chelsea ignored me, but Louie also smiled and greeted me with jazz hands when I put down my tray and sat down at the table.

"Thanks again for the advice with Kenzie," Felicia said. "You were a literal angel to suggest it, we've pretty much worked it all out."

My face lit up. "Really?" I asked. "Does that mean she can stay on the team for the championships?"

"Pretty sure. She was, like, feeling super bad about the whole leaving us alone at competitions thing, so she was totally into the idea. And a bunch of others on the team are getting help too, so." Felicia flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Win-win, right?"

"Awesome," I said, even though I'd never met the people Felicia was talking about. "I hope it works!"

"It will," Felicia decided. "God, I'm so glad it worked. Can you imagine rearranging the whole team without Kenzie there? It would've been a nightmare." She rolled her eyes. "And who would've had to do it? Me. I'm literally not even a senior!"

I smiled, and Louie smiled, and Chelsea let out a snort she poorly concealed as a cough. Felicia looked from one of us to the other. "What?" she said.

"Nothing," Louie chimed, putting on her best innocent face.

"Seriously, what?"

My smile widened as I took pity on Felicia's disbelieving stare. "I think your teammates want you to do that because they trust you," I said.

"Ugh. Seriously?" She made a face. "That's so dumb. Like I'm not busy enough without babysitting the whole stupid cheerleading squad!"

Chelsea, Louie and I all exchanged a smile. Felicia glared at us. "What now?"

"Well…" I said when the others didn't bother to explain. "Didn't you say you'd try for the captain's position the other day?"

A realization dawned over Felicia's face, and she rolled her eyes. "Girl, I just said that to be nice," she said. "Don't you ever say stuff just to make people smile?"

"No," I said, smiling innocently, "I always say the truth."

She stared. Narrowed her eyes. Then pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. "I literally can't tell if you're kidding or not."

I laughed, and she groaned, and conversation flowed on as normal. Every so often I'd turn around, trying to catch sight of Sunday to see if she was okay on her own, or even if Dan had returned to join her. Not that I could see her from this angle. Too many people in the way.

If the girls noticed me trying to check on her, none of them said anything. But when the break was over and we were all getting up from the table, Felicia suddenly pulled me aside.

"Hey," she said in an undertone, "I saw you talking to Sunday Fontana earlier. Are you two friends?"

Her face was serious, and I tried and failed to read the emotion behind her icy blue eyes. I thought of Sunday's furious dislike of Felicia and found myself wondering, suddenly, if it was reciprocated.

Should I lie about us being friends? Would Felicia mind?

"Oh! We…have some classes together," I said, opting for not a lie but not quite the full truth, either. "So we sometimes hang out."

Felicia nodded slowly, still not giving away her thoughts. "She's not mean to you, is she?" she asked. "Not hurting you or anything?"

I blinked, taken aback. "No?" I said. "She's very sweet—why?"

"Then it's fine."

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Felicia turned to leave, suddenly looking like herself again. "It's not like I care who you're friends with or anything," she said lightly. "Just don't let people be mean to you. Okay?"

Nodding awkwardly, I put away my tray and wondered what the hell that had been about.